


You're Beautiful

by Japo_Chan23



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor isn't really in this?, Evan's dad is mentioned (as well as the family he has), Evan's describing Connor, He's kind of just mentioned, I'm mainly trying to practice describing stuff, M/M, Oneshot, basically just practice, but it's cute, but only for a few paragraphs nothing big, i guess, i'm projecting, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 16:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Japo_Chan23/pseuds/Japo_Chan23
Summary: Standing in front of Connor Murphy always caused an unnecessary amount of emotions to overwhelm him.There was a time when Evan had to excuse himself from class because of how perfect Connor seemed to him.He ended up writing down every detail about Connor that was every bit of exquisite that Evan saw. Even if Connor didn't see it.





	You're Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> This was just practice, but then it became a thousand words of this.

Connor Murphy was, too say the least, the most beautiful man Evan has ever seen. Even if he says otherwise. 

Evan recalled a time when he was in Colorado visiting his father. His step mother's brother, Rick, was there, and his half-sister, who was twelve years old, kept asking him questions relating to when Rick was in the Air Force, and the places he went. People he was interested in.

The blonde didn't talk to Rick, but only once. His little sister had asked him the places he went to, and the last place he listed off was Italy.

With a sudden burst of confidence, Evan has lifted his head, looked at Rick, and actually said something that night. 

"How was the scenery?" 

"Beautiful."

Evan remembered almost crying that night. Not from his anxiety for once, not from an overwhelming situation that caused him to hide and keep everyone out. 

Getting told that the scenery was beautiful, in just one word. Everything had just gotten summed in a word used so loosely, a word that could be used to describe something as simple as a raindrop. It was so confusingly simple, but it just held so much in it. It was special. It wasn't intimate, but if the time was right, it could be as intimate as parted lips pressed against his neck, and teeth digging into the skin of his shoulder. Or simply as intimate as listening to music that played with your heart strings and emotions while basking in the moonlight.  
It amazed him, and at the same time caused Evan to feel so much raw emotion. Hearing something beautiful, seeing such wonders with his own eyes. 

It was an absolute blessing, that every emotion he ended up feeling, he didn't know how to handle it.

So he cried. 

A lot.

It was of no surprise, really. He loved it, sometimes. When he was able to see something so exquisite that he started crying because he didn't know how to handle it.  
Despite the fact that he cried a lot, half the time was from his anxiety, as unfortunate as it was. The other half of the time, was from when he would get overwhelmed from such emotion when in something so amazing, so beautiful. 

It confused him.

Standing in front of Connor Murphy always caused an unnecessary amount of emotions to overwhelm him. 

There was a time when Evan had to excuse himself from class because of how perfect Connor seemed to him. 

He ended up writing down every detail about Connor that was every bit of exquisite that Evan saw. Even if Connor didn't see it. 

The softness of his hair, despite the clumps and tangles that resided there for the days he couldn't take care of it. How brown his hair was. Most people would describe it as the color of melted chocolates, sprayed out over a lump of marshmallows, dripping down the edges. Granted, no one thought that, but he didn't either, so Evan wasn't strange for thinking so. Connor's hair would definitely be Godiva's chocolate. But that wasn't the point. 

His hair was the dark mahogany of a cello, littered with cuts and scratches on the back, the pegs of a violin, constantly twisting and turning trying to be in tune with the rest, the color of whiskey in a small glass on a cold winter's night. 

The anxiety ridden boy was beginning to think that no matter how poetic he could try to be, he wouldn't be as good as the people he sees online. 

A small part of him told him that there were small metaphors, scribbled underneath crossed out stanzas and profanity. 

To Evan, Connor's eyes were like a chrysanthemum, once blue, but soon turned brown, playing a game of tag with the dark parts of his mind, fingertips barely grazing death. Once lively, something lovely that people would pass by, and smile at the sheer colorfulness of the flower. And before anyone realizes it, it's closing in on itself, color draining into a plain brown as it wilts away, no one taking notice, or caring, the flower being too far gone to recover. 

Evan pretends it was a coincidence that chrysanthemums symbolize optimism and joy. 

The blue of Connor's eyes, could easily be described of skies that went on for forever, of oceans that were filled with waves, constantly hitting the sand, threatening to hit anyone coming close to it. 

Evan really would've described the brunettes orbs as such, but that speck of brown in his right eye, something Evan never saw before in his life, changed that. From clear skies and a violent ocean, to a wilting chrysanthemum. 

It was somewhat depressing, but it was unique. It was something that Evan saw beauty in, despite the obvious. Wilting flowers weren't pretty, they were dying. 

Evan thought, just for a moment, death doesn't always have to be a grim, solemn thing that didn't held to beauty. 

Connor's lips were something entirely different. Dry and chapped. Evan never knew how to describe it. It wasn't soft or plump, something that could be described as the first bite into a peach, or a plum. It wasn't a pink described as the rose that one receives on Valentine's Day, or the red that could only described as the color of Evan's bottom lip when bitten and chewed at relentlessly. 

No, Connor's lips were were chapped, thin, and dry. 

Evan still loved those lips anyways. When they were placed against his own, or against his cheek in the fine lights of the morning. 

They weren't special, and definitely something that you wouldn't be able to compare it to something like the green of a meadow, or the orange of the sunset. Evan just saw it as something so beautiful he couldn't find the words to describe it. 

Evan loved everything about Connor Murphy, even if he couldn't string together the right words into the correct sentence to describe how much he truly adored the other man.

A simple, "I love you", will have to do.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually met a guy named Rick, who was apart of the usaf, and asked him how the scenery in Italy was, when I was at a friend's house. He replied with "beautiful" and I was in awe (I also almost started crying). So this was basically just for practice, and me projecting onto Evan about how I start crying at the simplest of things.


End file.
